


sins of the father

by susieboo



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger Management, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bipolar Disorder, Coming of Age, Corruption, Crimes & Criminals, Depression, Dialogue Heavy, Diary/Journal, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Ghosts, Loss of Innocence, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Molestation, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, Sexual Assault, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susieboo/pseuds/susieboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace and Audrey Sawyer were never told that their father was Jason Dean. Nor were they told that he and their mother, Veronica, went on a semi-accidental killing spree in the 1980s. They also weren't told that their dear father has been keeping an eye on them for sixteen years. J.D., meanwhile, was never told that he had a pair of twin daughters. To be fair, Veronica was never told that J.D. survived the explosion that allegedly killed him. And she was certainly never told that the police were gathering more and more evidence that the string of suicides in Sherwood, Ohio were all murders, and that every lead points to her. But in 2006, all these truths are coming out at once. And who has to deal with the consequences? Grace and Audrey, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i think i'm finally clean

**_December 4, 1989_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_It's been a month since J.D. was blown sky-high. I can't get him out of my head. I close my eyes, and I see him. Reaching out for me._

_"Our love is God."_

_And then, nothing._

_I wake up in a cold sweat. I have this dream almost every night. I throw up every morning. Mom and Dad are starting to ask questions. I can't believe no one's blown the top off of this yet. But, I guess J.D. kept his promise when he said our tracks were covered. The police didn't ask me anything about Heather, Kurt, or Ram. They just asked about the explosion. I told them I didn't know why J.D. did it. They knew I was his girlfriend, but I guess enough people vouched that I'd broken up with him that they didn't consider me a co-conspirator._

_At least I was actually innocent on that front._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

Veronica closed the book and stood from her bed. Her whole body ached, but it had for several nights now. At first she thought it was her period, but it was nearly two weeks late now. 

* * *

Somewhere on the edge of Indiana, there was a small hospital. In that hospital, there was a coma ward.

And in that coma ward, sans one leg and hearing in one of his ears, with countless scars and burns all over his body, Jason Dean woke up.

* * *

 

_**December 16, 1989** _

_Dear Diary,_

_I took six pregnancy tests, and they all said the same thing._

_Heather won't stop laughing._

_What the fuck am I going to tell Mom and Dad?_

_I am dead. Dead dead dead dead dead._

_And I feel bad for this womb-dwelling chest burster, too. They never asked for this._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

 

**_December 18, 1989_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_Dropped the bomb today. Staying at Heather M.'s tonight. I'm not kicked out or anything, but there are only so many disappointed looks a girl can take. Mom just cried a lot, and Dad said, "I still love you, Ronnie, but I'm shocked at how careless you are."_

_Haven't told Heather yet. Jesus, what will I do when I'm huge and everyone knows?_

_So much for being the new sheriff in town._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

 

**_February 28, 1990_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_Times I've been called a slut today: 3_

_The average is finally going down! The good thing about Westerberg is with so many students, someone else was bound to screw up real big sooner or later. I guess people were finally bored of picking on me._

_Heather and Martha have been great. Heather kicked Jenna Green off the cheerleading team for spreading rumors that I don't even know who the father is, and Martha's just been helping me prepare for the fact that I'm going to be in charge of a tiny life soon._

_I talked it over with Mom and Dad, and we decided to keep it. They'll help me raise it._

_Yes, I realize this is a stupid decision, but it's a stupid decision I feel like I have to make._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

 

_**April 16, 1990** _

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm carrying twins._

_What the fuck._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

 

**_August 10, 1990_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_Audrey Heather Sawyer: born at 9:07 AM. 7 pounds, 2 ounces._

_Grace Martha Sawyer: born at 9:29 AM. 7 pounds exactly._

_Exhausted._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

 

_**October 18, 1990** _

_Dear Diary,_

_I have a job! I am now a typist at the local temp agency, and I have a weekly column in the Sherwood Gazette. And Mom says she can watch the twins while I'm at work. Heather and Martha help me on the weekends and after work. I hardly have any nightmares anymore, and according to Dr. Nathanson, Grace and Audrey are perfectly healthy girls so far._

_I think it's all gonna be okay._

_\- Veronica_

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realize there's no way for J.D. to have survived. But for the plot, he must.


	2. i feel my nightmares watching me

**September 1, 2006**

* * *

 

Grace hated being called crazy. She also happened to get called crazy roughly nine times per week. 

Roughly five out of those nine times, she was called crazy by her twin (but technically older) sister, Audrey. 

Their first day of their sophomore year, and already she'd hit the third time this week, as the two girls headed down the stairs of their Ohio home.

"You're crazy," Audrey said, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

"No," Grace said, "I'm not. I swear to God, that guy in McDonald's was looking at us, Aud. And I'm pretty sure I saw that van circle the house five times before it left, too."

"There are loads of black vans around, and it was probably just your imagination, anyway."

"It wasn't!" she insisted. 

It wasn't.

Since they were eight or nine, Grace had noticed things. A car that seemed to always be there, just off their school's property. A dark haired, wild-eyed man that recurred frequently in the background of her life, like an extra on a TV show. It had taken her years to place him, to figure out which particular man it was that she was sure she was seeing, again and again and again. "It's a small town, you're gonna see the same strangers twice, Grace!" Audrey had said, the first time she'd brought this up. But Grace somehow knew this man wasn't a Sherwood resident. She didn't see him often enough. No, no, she only saw him once every two or three months. In the grocery store, in the mall, at school plays or at the summer fair. Every few months, he'd show up. But never long enough for her to say anything, to ask who he was. Then, he was gone.

At least, physically. He was a recurring character in Grace's subconscious, emerging in her dreams and in the scribbled content of her sketchbook, which she guarded with her life. There had been a time when she'd let Audrey look at it, but when she saw the dark haired man in one of Grace's drawings, she'd laughed and said, "Oh, my God, Grace, you're obsessed."

It was then that Grace had decided that she wouldn't tell Audrey about things like this anymore.

So she didn't tell Audrey that the man she thought was watching them was the same man. The last thing she needed was for Audrey to tell their mother.

* * *

 

J.D. had never cared for the word "stalking."

He preferred "keeping an eye on the girls that were rightfully his."

The new prosthetic leg, the hearing aid, and the years that had passed made him somewhat hard to place as the weird, trenchcoat-wearing loner of 1989, but he'd still taken care to only pop in when he knew Veronica wouldn't spot him. He lived his life on the road (as always), switching identities every couple of years, but he made a pit stop in Sherwood every few months ever since he first found out Grace and Audrey existed.

He'd first come by to check on Veronica in 1993. It was Halloween. He'd wanted to approach her, tell her the truth, tell her that it was finally safe for them to be together.

But she hadn't been alone. She'd had two small girls with her, identical in every way except for their costumes. They had her hair, her fair skintone, even the shape of her chin. But they'd had his dark eyes, and his nose. He'd known from the instant he'd set eyes on them; he was a father.

He stood there, debating whether or not to talk to her and introduce himself to his girls, when she'd said, "Come on, Mommy's gonna turn into a pumpkin. Time to go home," lifting one of the girls into her arms.

They were gone.

Over the years, checking on them became a nice, comforting routine for him. He learned what their names were in 1994, finally finding their birth announcement in an old newspaper. He'd found out about their lives in puzzle pieces, learning a little more every time he showed up, overhearing conversations.

Grace liked art and science. 

Audrey liked theater and kickboxing. 

Grace saw a therapist twice a week for her anxiety.

Audrey had been suspended from school four times in her freshman year.

Grace had vivid dreams, and even clearer nightmares.

Audrey merely focused on what was real.

He told himself he loved them, and he was sure he did, but he couldn't help but wonder, how much could you love someone you barely even knew?

Soon they'd be old enough to understand, and then he could tell them.

He was thinking sometime in the next year.

But his plan was going to be sped along, sooner than he thought.

* * *

 

Veronica was at work, now the editor in chief of the Sherwood Gazette, when she realized she was thoroughly, utterly, and _completely_ fucked.

Eating lunch at her desk, she watched the news on the TV that hung in the corner of the ceiling, not paying too much attention until the words: "1989 SERIAL SUICIDES REOPENED FOR INVESTIGATION."

Her stomach dropped.

Oh, God, please, no. Not now. Not when everything was finally okay again.

_"--although these deaths were casually and almost instantly acknowledged as suicides, recent investigations at the urging of the families of the deceased point to a far grimmer conclusion: homicide. The police are now collecting evidence to decide who may be behind these crimes, and how to bring them to justice."_

Veronica sat in her desk chair, gripping the arms very, very hard, knuckles white. Breathe, she told herself, breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

They couldn't prove anything. J.D. had erased all evidence.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

"My, my, Veronica," Heather Chandler's voice said in her ear. Veronica had gone weeks without hearing that voice, and she had never quite appreciated the silence enough until now. "Looks like Jesse James didn't do his job right!"

In. Out. In. Out.

All that was left was...

In. Out.

...Her old diary.

In.

The phone rang.

Out.

Fuck.

A shaking hand picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Veronica, sweetie?"

"Oh! Mom. Hi. What's up?"

"I felt like I should tell you--oh, dear, I feel so awful for invading your privacy--"

"What is it, Mom?" Veronica said, trying to keep her voice even.

"The police came by, asking about those poor kids that died in your senior year..."

In. Out. In. Out.

"Oh?" Her voice cracked ever so slightly.

"They asked if you were behaving strangely then, and I said, well, of course you were, your best friend had died! And they asked if there was anything you might not have told me..."

In. Out.

"Uh-huh?"

"...And I said, well, anything you didn't tell me would be in your diary."

_No no no no no no no._

"O-oh?"

"They asked if they could have it to look through, and I didn't see the harm, so I gave it to them. You left it behind when you moved."

Of course she did. She'd decided that getting her own place for herself and the girls would be a new chapter in her life - and that meant leaving any memory of J.D. behind.

_Stupid stupid STUPID._

"I just felt like I should tell you."

"When was this?"

"About an hour ago."

"...Okay... okay, thanks, Mom."

She had to get to the girls right now.

"I gotta go, Mom, lunch break is over."

"Alright, dear. Love you!"

"LoveyoutooMomokaygottagoBYE."

She hung up, grabbed her coat, and walked out the door before anyone could question her. She had maybe one more hour before they came for her. She didn't know what she had to do once she got the girls from school, but she had to talk to them.

Veronica ran for her car in the parking lot, fumbling for her keys.

When a hand grabbed her by the shoulder, she screamed out loud, spinning and instinctively hitting whoever it was.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I come in peace! Jeez!"

"...No..." She backed away, slowly, not taking her eyes off him.

"Veronica..."


	3. don't you know that the kids aren't alright?

**September 1, 2006**

 

* * *

 

"This can't be happening," Veronica whispered, wild eyes flicking up and down, staring in fear at the man before her. He was dark haired, dark eyed, tall and spindly. He had a hearing aid and a prosthetic leg, age lines around his eyes, and seemed even more unhinged than ever, but there was no mistaking; it was definitely him. Jason Dean, father of her children, her psycho ex boyfriend, the serial killer, was alive.

"It's happening," J.D. said, moving closer. She shrunk away on instinct. "Veronica, I saw the news."

"...So you know what's happening."

"I do," he confirmed. "And I'm here to help you out of it."

"I'm dreaming," Veronica said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm having a really vivid nightmare, and when I open my eyes, you'll be gone, and I'll be at home, in my bedroom."

Slowly, slowly, she opened one eye. He was still there.

"Oh my _God_ ," she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Do you believe you're awake, now?" he asked, somewhat impatient. Come on, they didn't have much time to spare!

"No."

"Too bad. Just work with me. I'm going to keep you and the girls safe."

_That_ snapped her out of it.

"The girls. You mean you know--?"

"Yes, I know about our daughters."

She let out a sharp breath. _Great_. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

"Look, Veronica, I get that this is a lot to absorb, but we gotta _go_. Can we talk in the car?" J.D. asked, checking his watch.

Veronica nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and let him into the passenger's seat, a part of her still praying that she'd wake up soon. J.D. closed the car door behind him, balancing a backpack on his lap. She started on the path to her daughters' school, before asking the first of her thousands of questions.

"How do you know they're coming after me?"

J.D. shifted somewhat awkwardly in his seat, averting his gaze from her for the first time in the entire conversation.

"...Well?" she pressed.

"I was parked outside your old house."

"Oh my God."

"I just wanted to keep an eye on things, that's all!"

" _Oh my God_." She slammed her hand on the steering wheel. "Dammit, J.D., do you ever grow up? God!"

"Look, the point is, I saw the cops talking to your mom, and then I saw her give them your diary. You wrote everything in that book, didn't you?"

"...Yeah," she admitted.

"So once they get done reading it, which will take, what, two hours?"

"Three, tops."

"Right. Anyway, once they're done, they're coming for you."

She moved on to her next question. "How long have you known about Grace and Audrey?"

"Since '93."

"Oh my _God_."

"I came to try to win you back. And then, I saw you with them. Two beautiful little girls," he said, remembering the first time he ever saw his daughters fondly. "I knew the second I saw them they were mine. The timing was right, and they looked something like them, even back then."

Veronica came to stop a red light, and turned to slowly look at J.D.

"...Grace sometimes talked about seeing a stranger in the crowd every few months. She said she felt like he was there for her. I always thought she was paranoid. God, J.D., I thought there was something wrong with her! I made her see a doctor for years. But it was _you_ , wasn't it? She wasn't imagining things; she was seeing you."

J.D. nodded slowly. "...She's a smart kid."

"God!" She started driving again, forcing herself to breathe. "How in the hell did you survive?"

"A lot of luck and a team of very charitable doctors in Indiana," J.D. said. "Lost hearing in one ear and a leg, though. Though I've mostly gotten used to the leg."

"And what exactly is your plan for keeping me out of jail?"

"Run."

"Run?"

"Run," he confirmed. "We get the girls, we get fake IDs, and we relocate. Build a new life for ourselves." He reached a hand over to gently rest on her arm. "Think of it, Veronica, our kids can finally have both parents around. We can fix things between us."

Veronica didn't answer. She knew she should've found the idea repulsive, but she didn't. J.D. was still very much in love with her, and a piece of her would always feel the same way about him. Whether she _should_ or not was irrelevant.

But she had to put the girls first.

"...You help me and the girls relocate. You can be around, part of their lives. But we can't play happy family."

At least, not right off the bat.

J.D. sighed. "Fine," he said. "But you'll be back, you'll see."

"So, what do I need to do?"

"Call the school now and tell them you're pulling the girls out of class. They'll send them outside to wait. Then call one of them."

"Okay."

While Veronica fumbled with her cell phone, J.D. reached into the backpack, and pulled out two guns - one for Veronica, and one for himself.

Veronica's stomach lurched.

They were the same guns that they'd filled with  _ich luge_ bullets.

Still, when he offered a gun to her, she took it, and placed it on the dashboard in front of her.

This entire day was a blur, a complete mess. But she powered through it as always.

What the hell else was there to do?

* * *

"Something's going on," Grace said, as she and Audrey collected their bags from their lockers and headed outside to wait for their mother. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Mom never just pulls us out for no reason. And on the first day of school?  _Something's_ going on."

"I guess we'll find out when she gets here."

Grace nodded, and was about to reply, when Audrey's phone went off.

"It's Mom," Audrey said, before picking up. "Hello?"

"Audrey?"

"Hi, Mom, where are--?"

"I'm about three blocks away," Veronica said. "I can't pull into the school parking lot, so you and Grace have to come to the car. I'm parked behind the McDonald's."

"What? Why?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Just come, okay?"

"...Okay," Audrey said, plainly bewildered.  She hung up, and relayed the information to her twin.

Grace had more or less the same reaction. "Why can't she come to the school?"

Audrey rolled her eyes. "I just _said_ , Grace, I don't know." She slung her backpack on. "Well, we'd better go, either way. God knows what kind of lecture we'll get if we keep her waiting for too long."

* * *

"Who the fuck are you?" were the first words out of Audrey's mouth when she saw a man in the car with Veronica - J.D., riding shotgun.

"Long story," Veronica said, way too tired to even bother correcting her daughter's language. "Just get in. We'll explain on the way."

Grace and Audrey exchanged a look, then got into the backseat together.

"Mom, is everything okay?" Audrey asked, now a little concern. She cast a glance at her sister, who now looked very odd - she was staring at the stranger, eyes wide and skin even paler than normal. "Grace, is--" She stopped. "Oh my God, is that a gun?"

"It's a long story."

"Oh my God, that _is_ a gun! Look, could someone please just explain to me what the flying _fuck_ is going on here?"

Veronica and J.D. glanced at one another.

"Want me to drive so you can talk?" J.D. offered. Veronica nodded, and the two quickly switched seats. Once Veronica was on the passenger's side, she turned around in her seat to talk to her daughters as J.D. pulled out of the driveway.

"Okay, before I say anything, I want you two to know that I love you. And that I always did whatever I could to make sure you two had nice, normal lives."

Audrey frowned. "Mom, you're--"

"And I may have done bad things in the past, but I've tried to change for the better. And maybe I'm not doing the right thing now, but I can't be separated from you." She took a deep breath. "The reason I couldn't come to the school was because of the security cameras on the school property."

"What does that even--?"

Before Audrey could finish her sentence, J.D. hit the brakes. "Shit," he hissed under his breath.

Sirens, flashing lights. Police cars.

Grace and Audrey remained silent in the backseat, exchanging looks of horror with one another. Veronica closed her eyes, muttering "shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit" again and again. J.D., however, remained calm, grabbing his weapon and loading it.

Showtime.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shoutout to my friend Zoe, aka my wife. Thank you so much for letting me ramble about JD/Veronica and my Grace and Audrey headcanons in your inbox.


	4. i fought the law

**September 1, 2006**

* * *

 

 

J.D. handed Veronica some bullets. "Load up," he said. 

 

"Oh, are these _ich luge_ bullets?" Veronica spat, voice laced with venom. J.D. smiled.

 

Grace and Audrey exchanged confused glances. "What are _ich luge_ bullets?" Grace finally asked.

 

J.D. went into his usual fake history lesson. "The Nazis developed them and used them in World War II," he said, in what Veronica assumed he thought was a very factual, believable tone. "They were used to fake their own suicides when--"

 

" _Ich luge_ is German for 'I'm lying'," Veronica informed her, cutting in. She glared at J.D. "Yes, Jason. I looked it up."

 

He shrugged. "Don't call me Jason. And besides, you didn't ask."

 

"I didn't ask? You deliberately mislead--"

 

"Not to be rude or anything," Audrey said, "but don't you suppose we should do something about the _armed SWAT team_?"

 

"She's right," J.D. said. "Look, try to keep the gun out of view when we get out of the car--"

 

"We're getting out of the car?" Grace said, voice shrill.

 

He rolled his eyes. "Not you two. You two should wait in here. Get down in the back and shield your heads."

 

The girls nodded, sliding down to the car floor, trying to hide as best they could. Audrey wrapped an arm around her shaking twin, trying to calm her. It didn't work. Grace was still shaking, still pale, still wide-eyed. Audrey made eye contact with her sister, mouthing "Just breathe." Grace tried her best to listen.

 

J.D. got out of the car, Veronica following him, gun tucked into the back of his jeans. Veronica concealed hers in her boot. It was heavy, uncomfortably so, against her leg, but at least it was out of sight. In spite of what Audrey said, they hadn't actually sent a SWAT team after them. Five or six cops, all armed, but no SWAT team.

 

Instant disappointment.

 

"Is there a problem, officers?" he asked.

 

"Step away from the vehicle," one of the men in uniform said by way of an answer, "and keep your hands where I can see them."

 

J.D. and Veronica exchanged rushed glances. They both only had two thoughts on their mind: _How do we get out of this?_ and _Keep the twins safe._ Veronica's brain was in overdrive, trying to find a suitable course of action. They'd shoot her immediately if they saw her reach for her gun. If she got inside the car, they might shoot at it, not realizing the girls were inside. If she ran behind it, she'd still risk being shot as she ran for cover. 

 

Fuck.

 

She glanced at J.D. again.

 

And a lightbulb lit up.

 

The cops weren't after him. They thought J.D. was long dead. They were just after her. As far as they knew, J.D. was just an innocent bystander.

 

In one swift movement, she'd moved behind J.D. grabbing his gun from where he'd hidden it in his waistband, and hooked an arm around his neck.

 

"I'll do it!" she warned. (She wasn't entirely sure if she was bluffing or not.) "I swear to God!"

 

J.D. glanced at her, giving her a look that plainly said  _what the hell are you doing?_  . Veronica ignored him.

 

"Ms. Sawyer, release the hostage and place your weapon on the ground!"

 

"MOM!" 

 

Everyone's head whipped around to look at the source of the high-pitched shriek; Audrey and Grace had peeped out the window and they hadn't liked what they saw.

 

"Oh, Christ, she brought her kids--!" one of the cops said, obviously appalled. 

 

The car door opened.

 

"Audrey," Veronica said, trying to get her voice level again, "get back in the car."

 

Audrey didn't listen. She moved closer to her mother. Grace hesitated, before getting out of the car, too, following her sister with her hands up.

 

"Mom, what's going on?" Audrey whispered, terrified. "Mom, Mom, you can't..."

 

"I know what I'm doing," Veronica said, despite the fact that she didn't have a goddamn clue. 

 

"Mom, you're - you're not a killer..." Grace said quietly.

 

"...I did some bad things," she whispered, "but please know that I love you, and I--"

 

"Surrender," J.D. suddenly said, voice low, keeping a look of false terror on his face. (The gun to his temple made it remarkably realistic.)

 

"... _What_?"

 

"Put the gun down, and let me go. The girls need to stay close to me in order for this to work. Just trust me."

 

"Why should I--?"

 

"Because at the moment, you have no other choice."

 

Veronica looked at him. She looked at the cops. She looked at her daughters.

 

And she put the gun down, dropping J.D. to the ground. Grace and Audrey moved closer to him, though they didn't know whether or not their mother was right to trust him. Veronica raised her hand above her head, and moved closer to the police officers.

 

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

 

They'd been so focused on catching their murderess, that had escaped them for so many years, that it didn't occur to anyone that maybe the hostage wasn't really a hostage at all. At least, not until J.D. dived for his gun and shot at three of the six officers, hitting two of them. Suddenly, all guns were pointed at him, but none of them shot.

 

After all, he had two teenage girls, each approximately a foot away from him. One missed mark would end in tragedy for everyone.

 

Instantly, Veronica understood what she had to do. All attention now on J.D. and the wounded cops, she reached for her own gun inside of her boot, running back to the car. She thought of calling out to the girls to abandon J.D. and come with her, but seeing as how he just shot two people to save her ass, she figured betraying him wouldn't be exactly good karma. Plus, knowing J.D., the bastard would probably find a way to survive, anyhow.

 

Of course, she couldn't exactly just drive off and leave her daughters with him, either.

 

_BANG!_

 

J.D. shot again, and this time, he hit his mark. Another cop was down for the count. Three left.

 

He moved back, trusting the girls to follow. They did, primarily because they didn't intend on being shot. Moving somewhat clumsily backwards, he got into the car, almost throwing Grace and Audrey back into the backseat, slamming the door shut and saying quickly to Veronica, "Three cars -- we need to shoot at least one tire on each. Two would be better. It's not much, but it gives us a head-start. How good is your aim?"

 

"The same as it was last time I shot at something: absolute shit."

  
"Of course," he muttered. "I'll drive closer, you hit the one on the far right, I'll get the other two."

 

"What the hell is going on?!" Audrey screamed. J.D. and Veronica didn't respond to her outburst, too focused on what they had to do.

 

J.D. hit the gas, sticking one arm out the open window to shoot, eyes squinting in concentration. 

 

_BANG! BANG!_

 

Car #1 was down.

 

_BANG!_

 

And there went Car #2.

 

Veronica, meanwhile, was trying to steady her shaking hands, aiming at the tire of the last car.

 

 _Come on,_ she told herself,  _you can't go to jail. Save yourself. Shoot._

 

"Veronica," J.D. said impatiently.

 

"Give me a minute!"

 

"I don't have a minute to give you!"

 

"Mom, for God's sake!" Audrey shrieked, terrified.

 

Grace had had enough.

 

Without a word, she leaned forward, taking the gun from her mother.

 

_BANG!_

 

Car #3 was officially out of commission. 

 

Surprised but proud, J.D. grinned at her through the rearview mirror, slamming on the gas and peeling away, well above the speed limit.

 

Audrey and Veronica just stared at Grace, who had given the gun back and had slumped back into the backseat, eyes wide with shock.

 

Finally, Audrey spoke.

 

"I didn't know you knew how to fire a gun," she said.

 

"I _don't_."

 

Audrey shook her head in disbelief. "Hardcore," she said. "Insane, but hardcore."

 

"Thank you."

 

Then, Audrey rounded on Veronica and J.D.

 

"Okay, I've said it before, and I'll say it again -- what the hell is going on? Why are the cops after you? Why are _ich luge_ bullets even relevant? And you--!" She turned to J.D. "Who the fuck even _are_ you?"

 

J.D. glanced at Veronica. "You want to tell them, or should I?"

 

"Tell us _what_?"

 

"I'll do it," Veronica said. "Girls -- meet your father."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long! I hope you all enjoy, and I hope you leave your comments.


	5. run, run, run away

**September 1, 2006**

* * *

 

"Oh. My. God. You're our father? You? The creepy cop-killing psycho trenchcoat guy with a fake leg? God, I could go down to the mall and pick out a random guy at Sears and he'd probably be a better father. Mom, I thought you had better taste--"

 

"Audrey, shut up."

 

"You shut up!"

 

"No, you shut up!"

 

"No, _you_ shut up!"

 

"No, y--OW! _MOM_! SHE HIT ME!"

 

"DID NOT, SHE'S LYING!"

 

"SHUT _UP_!"

 

J.D. gave Veronica a slightly perplexed look. Veronica had just closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the dashboard.

 

"And this is what it's like raising two teenage girls," she informed him, "every. Single. Day." She sighed and turned to face her daughters. "This is J.D. -- Jason Dean. We dated in my senior year of high school."

 

"How long?" Grace asked. "You never mentioned him."

 

"Only about two months."

 

J.D. grinned. "It was a good two months, though..."

 

"Yeah, before it went down in flames," Veronica said. "Oh, and that's not a metaphor, girls -- there were _actual_ flames."

 

Grace and Audrey exchanged glances. Their mother didn't date much -- with two daughters and a full-time job, she didn't have time. She'd been on a grand total of four dates when they were growing up, three of which she'd been set up on by Aunt Heather and Aunt Martha. None of them had went anywhere. They knew, of course, that she must've been with someone long enough to get pregnant - though, as they'd learned in sex ed, even one night would've been enough. But the way she talked to this "Jason Dean" made it clear that they were very familiar with each other. They spoke to each other like they'd known each other for years, for better or for worse. Not like two people who had dated for two months when they were in high school.

 

"Why do you have those things in your ears?" Audrey finally asked J.D.

 

"Audrey!" Grace scolded, shocked at her sister's insensitivity.

 

But J.D. shrugged. "It's fine," he said. "Got most of my hearing knocked out in the incident that caused the aforementioned flames."

 

"..." The twins couldn't even bring themselves to respond. They just gaped at him. 

 

Finally, Audrey spoke again. "And I assume that's why you have a fake leg, too."

 

"You noticed?"

 

"Your jeans rode up a bit when you were running."

 

"Did they? Huh."

 

"Yeah."

 

At that point, silence swept over the car. Grace was shrunk back into her seat, staring at J.D. with a very curious expression. Audrey wanted to ask her about it, but her mind was racing. She had other matters to consider. As did Veronica. Her thoughts were everywhere. How to cope now that she knew J.D. was alive. How she was going to run from the cops. If she was going to run from the cops. How she could tell her daughters what she did. Where they were going to go from here.

 

J.D.'s thoughts, however, were on the new life he hoped to build for himself, Veronica, and the girls. 

 

He always considered himself a cynic, but when it came to Veronica, he was an idealist to the point of stupidity.

 

* * *

 

Three hours on the highway had passed in miserable silence. Well, not quite silence. J.D. had spent the first hour desperately trying to make conversation with his daughters. ("So, are you two in any clubs?" "How's school? You two thought about college yet?" "What are your friends like? Either of you have boyfriends? Girlfriends? Which is fine, by the way..."), before the one-word answers he received finally caused his talking to peter out, and he'd simply turned on the radio. Some 80s Hit station. The syntho-pop tunes filled the car, which suited Veronica, Grace, and Audrey just fine. None of them felt like talking to J.D. much.

 

They were far, far away from Sherwood -- where, exactly, they were, Grace had no idea. It was a miracle the cops hadn't caught up to them by now. She'd been watching the world fly by out the window, trying to make sense of her life as she knew it. This morning, she'd been a high school student in Sherwood, Ohio, who just thought about art and her dreams and her hopes to go to animation school, and argued with her sister and tried to tell her mom that she didn't need to worry about her. Now, she was in a car with her mother who was on the run from the police for reasons she still had yet to disclose, and her absent-until-today father, who was a cop killer, and clearly far happier to see Veronica than she was to see him. And all she had was her sister, and what was in her backpack when she and her sister left school.

 

She grabbed her bag and scanned its contents. This amounted to:

 

  * 7 folders, all different colors.
  * 1 big binder.
  * 25 mechanical pencils.
  * 10 regular pencils. 
  * 10 pens.
  * A Sharpie.
  * A pack of colored pencils, 100 different colors.
  * 2 highlighters.
  * 4 packs of notebook paper.
  * 7 composition notebooks.
  * 1 eraser.
  * 3 books she'd brought in case class got slow. ("The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath, "Moby Dick" by Herman Melville, and "The Catcher in the Rye" by JD Salinger. The coincidence of the last author's initials almost made her laugh.)
  * An iPod and a pair of earbuds. (The charger was at home in her room. Typical.)
  * Her cell phone. ( _That_ charger was home, too.)
  * A planner.
  * A sketchbook.
  * Lunch.
  * Some cash, a "back to school" present in the form of a check she had yet to deposit, and a Starbucks card that still had some money left on it. This amounted to about $75.



 

In other words, if this was life on the run, she was severely unprepared. Suppose they got jumped. What could she do? Throw "The Bell Jar" at them?

 

She was so fucked.

 

Grace took her sketchbook and began leafing through it. It was a fairly new one, so not even half the pages were filled yet. Her fingers flipped through the pages, brown eyes scanning the sketches absentmindedly, until one made her pause.

 

It was a sketch of the man that she'd seen following her and Audrey for all those years. Standing in the crowd, watching.

 

Her eyes went up to J.D. Then, she looked at the picture once more.

 

Fuck.

 

So that was why she'd felt like she'd met him before. She'd known J.D. her whole life, in a way.

 

She nudged Audrey, gesturing to the picture, and then to J.D.

 

Audrey's eyes widened, the resemblance not escaping her. She mouthed, "When did you draw that?"

 

Grace grabbed a notebook and a pen, not wanting her parents to hear the conversation. She quickly scribbled to her sister:

 

_I drew this last week. Remember, the guy I thought was looking at us in McDonald's? The one I've been seeing for years. IT'S HIM! J.D.'s been watching us for ages! That's why I thought he looked familiar._

 

Audrey read the message, gulping slightly, and nodding. Deep down, she'd known that Grace was probably right, at least on some level, about the man she'd seen watching them, but Audrey hadn't wanted to accept it. But now the truth was breathing down her neck.

 

The radio station changed songs once more.

 

_Teenage suicide,_

_don't do it!_

_Teenage suicide,_

_she blew it!_

_Teenage suicide,_

_don't do it!_

_Teenage suicide,_

_oh, screw it!_

_Drugs and alcohol don't mix,_

_no shit..._

 

The song garnered very different reactions from the four passengers in the car. Audrey groaned aloud, saying, "I _hate_ this song." Grace groaned as well, rolling her eyes and trying to block the awful, awful one-hit wonder out. J.D., on the other hand, cracked up laughing, turning to Veronica.

 

"They're playing our song, baby!" he said, grinning at her.

 

Veronica had covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

J.D. kept laughing. Audrey and Grace found their father's behavior to be bizarre, but at least he was loud enough to block out most of the song.

 

Emboldened by the silence being broken, Audrey decided to just ask the question Veronica had known was coming since the moment J.D. showed up and told her the cops were coming.

 

"Mom, why are we running away?"

 

This caused J.D. to stop laughing, and he leaned over and turned the radio off. Veronica let out a long, slow breath, before turning to face her daughters.

 

"...Before I start, please know that I love you two more than I've ever loved anything," she said quietly.

 

"Okay, _wow_ ," J.D. said dryly. Veronica hit him in the arm, not bothering to turn and look at him.

 

"When J.D. and I were dating, I was hanging out with a group of girls I didn't like very much," Veronica said. "Your Aunt Heather was one of them - this was before we became friends. Anyway, one girl in particular was giving me trouble. So J.D. and I went over to her house to pull a prank on her. I meant to just give her something to make her puke, but J.D. suggested we give her liquid drain cleaner. I _thought_ he was kidding. But then he neglected to tell me when I grabbed the wrong cup by accident..."

 

J.D. snorted. "Yes. By _accident_."

 

Veronica gave him a look that probably could've killed someone under the age of twelve. J.D. smiled.

 

"...So she drank the drain cleaner," Audrey said slowly.

 

Veronica nodded. "I panicked. I didn't know what to do, so when he suggested faking a suicide note, I did it. I thought that was the end of it. But then..." She took a deep breath. "There were these football players. They were awful -- they date-raped most of their girlfriends and spread nasty rumors about me when I wouldn't go along with them. It was awful..."

 

"So, what, you killed them, too?" Audrey spat.

 

"Now you're catching on," J.D. muttered. Veronica hit him again.

 

"I hadn't meant to. I just wanted to scare them. J.D. told me they were fake bullets -- you know, trick ones. I didn't realize they were real until..."

 

"...Until Ram was already dead, and by the time you shot Kurt, you had plenty of time to realize that the bullets were real," J.D. said. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

 

Veronica glared at him. "I was scared! You tricked me!"

 

" _Fake bullets_ , Mom? _Really_?" Audrey said, voice high-pitched and sharp. "You're not stupid. You must've known what you were doing!"

 

"See, that's what I tried to tell her at the time, but--" J.D. started to speak, but Veronica cut him off.

 

"At least I didn't try to blow up a whole school!"

 

" _What_?" Audrey's head whipped around to face J.D. now.

 

J.D. rolled his eyes. "Now you're just taking things out of context."

 

" _You literally built a bomb and tried to blow up the school_."

 

"I wasn't without my reasons!"

 

"And then you didn't even have the courtesy to kill yourself correctly!"

 

"It's not _my_ fault I survived! I was as surprised as anyone!" Seeing the confused looks on his daughters' faces in the rearview mirror, J.D. gave them an explanation. Sort of. "After your mom _shot me_ \--"

 

"The gun went off on accident! You pulled the gun on _me_!"

 

"--she grabbed the bomb and tried to blow herself up to save everyone else. But, I realized there was nothing left for me. So I took it from her, and told her to stand back. And then... it went off. I woke up in a hospital a few weeks later. After awhile, I came back to check on Veronica, and that's when I found out I had two daughters."

 

Silence fell once more, Veronica's eyes desperately searching Grace and Audrey's faces, trying to figure out how they were taking the news.

 

"...Girls..." she said softly.

 

"I don't have anything to say to you," Audrey muttered, turning away.

 

Grace said nothing, averting her gaze as well.

 

Tears filling her eyes, Veronica turned back around in her seat, staring at the floor. J.D. patted her arm in an attempt to comfort her, and she was too depressed to even shove him off.

 

Audrey wrote Grace a note:

 

_We can't stay with them. We'll both get into even worse trouble if we do. Mom's a fugitive and J.D. could very well kill us if we make him mad. When they finally pull over, let's ditch. We can hitchhike back to Sherwood and go stay with Aunt Heather or something. Anywhere's better than here._

 

Grace bit her lip, turning to look at her sister. Audrey's eyes were hardened and determined.

 

Hands shaking, Grace wrote back her response to the plan.

 

_OK._

 

* * *

 

 

**September 2, 2006**

 

* * *

 

 

It was a few minutes past midnight. They had been in the car for what felt like an eternity, until finally, J.D. pulled into a gas station to fill up the tank. 

 

"Probably best you stay in the car and out of sight, Veronica," he said. "Your picture's probably all over the news by now."

 

"What about yours?"

 

"I'm not their wanted murderer. Besides, anyone that saw me in person's dead now," he said. "You've been living in Sherwood for years -- any cop that's worked in Sherwood for any length of time will know you the second they see you."

 

She sighed, but nodded.

 

"Can we get something to eat?" Audrey asked.

 

J.D. nodded, digging a twenty out of his pocket. "Get me a slushie or something, will you? Cherry or Coke."

 

Veronica rolled her eyes. "You never grow up."

 

"Hey, one is never too old for a slushie. Besides, I need the sugar boost. When I crash, you can drive."

 

Grace and Audrey took the money and got out of the car, backpacks on.

 

"You don't need to bring in your bags," J.D. said. "We won't be long."

 

_Shit_.

 

Grace thought quickly. "Um, we _do_ need our bags -- it's sort of personal," she said. 

 

"...What?"

 

"We're teenage girls, you figure it out."

 

It was two more seconds before it hit him.

 

" _Agh_!" he groaned, grimacing. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Go ahead, sorry..."

 

They made their way towards the gas station. 

 

"Nice save," Audrey mumbled.

 

"Thank you."

 

The two entered the brightly lit 7-11, rows and rows of sugary snacks, all of which looked quite tempting. But they didn't get anything. They needed all the money they could get.

 

* * *

 

 

"I'm turning myself in, J.D."

 

J.D. had been back in the car for ten minutes, now just waiting on Grace and Audrey to get back outside. He whipped around to face Veronica.

 

" _What_?"

 

"I'm turning myself in," she repeated. "As soon as the girls are back here, I'm going to use the payphone to call the cops, and then I'm handing myself over. I won't tell them about you, but I'm giving myself up."

 

"Why?" he asked, already racking his brain for ways he could talk her out of this.

 

"Because you're right. I did know what I was doing. I knew it was horrible, and I felt awful for wanting them to die, but I still killed them. And now, because I tried to cover it up, my daughters have been involved in a shootout with the cops, and they've been uprooted from everything they know and love, and--and that's not right. The best hope they have for a decent future is if I give myself up now."

 

"Veronica, you can't--"

 

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do," she snapped. "This is happening, J.D."

 

J.D. stared at her, horrified, before he sighed deeply and shook his head. "I can't stop you," he finally said. "But know that I think it's a stupid idea." He checked his watch. "Dammit, it's been nearly twenty minutes. Where _are_ they?"

 

"There wasn't a line at the cash register, was there?"  
  


"Not that I saw. I'm gonna go in and see if they're okay."

 

J.D. got out of the car and made his way into the store. There was a bored twenty-something behind the counter.

 

"Have you seen a pair of twins in here?" he asked. "About sixteen, brown hair, pretty?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, they both went back there," the cashier said, gesturing vaguely towards a small corridor in the back. There was a sign, with two arrows.

 

Over the left facing arrow, BATHROOMS. Over the right facing arrow,  EMPLOYEES ONLY.

 

The bathroom door was open, and no one was inside.

 

The employee room door was standing open, too.

 

"Is this door always open?" J.D. called out, feeling his stomach flipping. 

 

"Yeah, it's never locked right."

 

Oh, God.

 

He made his way into the room. There were seats, a vending machine, a small TV, and a window that faced a town and a small section of woods behind the 7-11. 

 

The window was open, and in the mud below the windowsill, two sets of small, identical footprints.

 

He'd run back out to the car, in a state of panic for the first time in many years. Not since he'd seen Veronica hanging from the fake noose in her closet.

 

"Veronica -- Veronica -- they're gone."

 

Veronica looked up, eyes widening. "What?"

 

"The twins -- they're gone -- they climbed out a window in the staffroom and they left. They ran off."

 

Veronica looked just about as scared as he felt. "...Oh, no..."

 

"Oh, God, Veronica, what are we gonna..."

 

"We have to go look for them, they couldn't have gotten far," she said, beginning to open the door. 

 

"No. No, no, _I'll_ go look," J.D. said, mind racing. "You call the cops like you planned."

 

"What? Just five minutes ago, you were against the idea--"

 

"Look, if they ran off because of what you did, you turning yourself in might be enough to persuade them to come back. Call the cops, I'll go look. If we get back before the cops do, great. If we don't, use your one phone call to call one of them. Tell them to call me, here's my number--" He grabbed a piece of scrap paper and scribbled his number. "Give them that number, tell them to call, I'll make sure they get home safely. And then we'll figure out what to do."

 

It was all happening fast, too fast for Veronica to think. So she nodded, and agreed to do what he said. Wasn't that what she did that got her into this mess?

 

"Okay," she heard herself say.

 

"It'll be okay, Veronica, they'll be okay. Tell the cops they ran off, they can look for them, too."

 

"Okay."  
  


"I love you." He didn't wait for a response, which was good, because she wasn't sure what she would've said. He just leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, before starting up the engine of the car.

 

Veronica got out of the car, legs made of lead, and watched J.D. drive towards the town where the girls had presumably gone.

 

She moved towards the payphone, and dialed the Sherwood police station. Her voice was hoarse, scratchy as she explained to the operator who she was, where she was, and that it was over. She surrendered. 

 

Finally, she was told the cops were coming. So she hung up, and sunk to sit on the curb outside the gas station.

 

And she waited. And she waited. And she waited some more.

 

And she thought about the look on Audrey and Grace's faces when they found out what she did.

 

And she waited.

 

And she thought about the fact that her sixteen year old daughters were alone, defenseless, running around in the big, dark wold.

 

And she waited.

 

And she thought about the fact that the only adult they had looking out for them right now was _Jason Dean_.

 

And she waited. And then she gave it two more minutes.

 

_And then she ran._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my friend Zoe, who is auditioning for both Romeo and Juliet and Carrie the Musical this week! Everyone send good vibes her way so hopefully she'll get into one or both shows!


	6. the wasted youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to start this chapter with a thank you to everyone who's left comments on this story. I swear I didn't forget about it, I just got distracted by other projects. I'm back, and (hopefully) better than ever. But enough apologies, here's a new update!
> 
> Trigger warning for this chapter: brief molestation/sexual assault description. It's only actually PRESENT in this chapter, but it'll be discussed throughout the fic. I tried not to get too graphic, but... yeah. Please proceed with caution. There's also a lot of misogynistic language thrown around.

**September 3, 2006**

 

* * *

 It was almost 1 AM, and Grace and Audrey were still arguing as they trekked alongside the road.

"We should go back."

"No."

"Audrey - we should go back."

" _No_ ," Audrey said firmly. 

"Think about Mom!"

Audrey whirled around to face her sister, eyes sparking with some untapped rage that Grace had never quite seen in her sister before. Audrey had always had a bit of a temper on her, sure, but Grace had never seen it like this.

"It's Mom's fault we're in this fucking mess!" she said. "She's the one that decided to go all fucking Bonnie and Clyde with her fucking high school boyfriend, and now she's on the run for fucking murder."

"You shouldn't say the f-word that many times in one sentence," Grace said mildly.

"Shut the _fuck_ up." She groaned, turning around and starting to walk again. "Come on, the sooner we get back to Sherwood, the better. Mom and J.D. are probably looking for us."

"All the more reason to go back!" Grace said, desperately trying to get her twin to see reason. "If Mom's out looking for us, she's more likely to get caught--"

"Good. So let her," Audrey snapped.

"Audrey!"

"What? She killed people. She should rot in jail!"

"You don't mean that," Grace said quietly.

"Yes, I do," she insisted.

"No, you don't."

 Audrey didn't say anything. She just turned around and continued walking. Grace hesitated, before speeding up to follow her. What else _could_ she do? If they got separated, they'd be even worse off than they were now.

"...So, what are we going to do?" she asked quietly.

"I told you. We're going back to Sherwood," Audrey said, with a note of finality in her tone.

"How? We don't have enough money for bus tickets."

"We don't need the bus. We can just hitchhike."

Grace felt her heart hit the bottom of her stomach. "What?! No. _No_!" She ran up to get in front of Audrey, who skidded to a stop and crossed her arms, glowering at Grace for even _thinking_ of disagreeing with her course of action. "Aud, we are _not_ going to hitchhike!"

"Why not?" Audrey said stubbornly.

"Because it's -- it's dangerous!" Grace spluttered, shocked that Audrey could even think of being so stupid. "We could get picked up by a serial killer or something!"

"Grace, we just _ditched_ two serial killers. We'll be fine." Audrey began to walk again, beckoning Grace to follow. "Now, come on, let's try and flag someone down."

"No. No way."

Their eyes met for a second, before Audrey shrugged, looking away. "Fine. If you don't want to come, don't. I'm sure it won't take Mom or J.D. long to find you."

Audrey began to walk away, leaving Grace where she stood, staring at her.

Grace watched Audrey walk towards the town in the near distance, weighing her options.

If she stayed put, she knew Audrey was right -- J.D. or Veronica would find her sooner or later.

If Veronica found her, she could tell her where Audrey was headed, and hopefully they'd catch up to her soon enough to stop her.

But what if it was J.D.? Or what if Audrey got a ride and went off to God-knows-where before Grace could reunite with her mother? What _then_?

She ran to catch up with her sister.

* * *

 

It took nearly an hour of sticking out their thumbs by the side of the road before someone pulled over.

From the moment she saw him, Grace felt uneasy. A tall, middle-aged man with dark hair and steely gray eyes. It wasn't that he was ugly, exactly. If Grace was being perfectly honest with herself, she'd say he was classically handsome. But something about him made a voice inside her scream, "Run away." His car -- which was rusting and seemed like it would fall apart if someone kicked it hard enough -- smelled like oil and cigarette smoke.

"Where are you two headed?" he asked. His voice was steady, friendly, even. It didn't make Grace feel any better.

Audrey spoke for both of them. "Sherwood."

"Ohio?"

"Yeah."

"That's a long ride," he said.

"You don't need to take us all the way," Audrey said, "just as far as you can."

"Hop in."

Audrey smiled appreciatively, and began making her way for the door. On instinct, Grace's hand shot out to grab her arm, pulling her back.

"What?" Audrey hissed, irritated.

"Audrey, I don't think we should do this," Grace whispered, eyes flicking to the driver to make sure he wasn't listening in. Whether or not he was, she couldn't tell.

"If I left it up to you, we'd never do anything," Audrey said, jerking her arm away. "Look, we have two nutjobs looking for us right now, not to mention the cops. This is do or die!" Her gaze softened ever so slightly as she added, "And you know I'd never lead you into danger."

"Not intentionally," she muttered.

"Grace, have I ever done you wrong?"

Grace didn't reply.

"...Come on. It's our only option."

Grace didn't personally believe that, but she nodded, and followed her sister into the backseat. She shrunk into the corner, leaning her head against the window as she tried to make herself seem as small and inconspicuous as possible. Audrey, on the other hand, leaned forward to speak to the driver.

"Thank you so much for stopping. I'm Audrey, she's Grace."

"I'm Travis. Aren't you lovely ladies a bit young to be hitchhiking by yourselves?" he asked, pulling onto the road again.

"We manage," Audrey said.

"There are a lot of creeps out there, you know."

Audrey raised an eyebrow. "Are _you_ a creep?" she questioned.

"Oh, yeah," Travis said, deadpan. "I'm actually taking you to my murderhouse right now."

Audrey laughed, but Grace didn't. "Oh, thank God," she said. "Please, just end it."

Grace pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to tune Travis and Audrey out as they continued to make small talk. She tried to tell herself that she was being silly. Audrey wasn't afraid. God, Audrey was _never_ afraid. She always went with her gut, never with her brain, and she always seemed to come out on top, no matter what stupid thing she did.

Why couldn't Grace have that kind of luck?

Awhile later, Travis pulled into a McDonald's, getting Grace and Audrey each a small meal along with a Coke for himself. Grace took the food, too hungry to refuse it, even though her insides were still churning. "Thank you," she mumbled, taking the cheeseburger and small fries from him.

"Oh my God, you are the best," Audrey said, already halfway done with her food. She'd always been one of those bitches who could eat whatever she wanted and not gain a pound.

"No problem," Travis said. "We're in Springfield, now, by the way. I actually live around here."

"What were you doing all the way out where you picked us up?" Audrey asked. 

"I was visiting a friend. I was gonna crash at his place overnight, but I have work tomorrow, so I decided to just head home."

Grace's heart gave a leap. "You know, if you're wanting to get home, you could let us off here," she said. Audrey elbowed her in the ribs.

"I wouldn't want to leave you two stranded," Travis said. "In fact -- say, I actually have a guest room. I could put the two of you up for the night."

"We wouldn't want to impo--" Grace began to say, but Audrey cut her off.

"That'd be _amazing_ , actually," she said, pointedly ignoring her twin as she gave her a horrified look. 

So, without any input from Grace (as per usual), their fate was decided.

* * *

"The door doesn't lock," Grace said.

"So what?" Audrey replied, as she set her bag down on the floor next to the bed.

"So, what if someone tries to come in?"

"Like who?"

"Like... like..." Grace trailed off. "You know!"

"Oh my God, you can't honestly think Travis would do something weird."

" _Who_ just picks up two teenage girls and brings them home?!" Grace said, throwing her hands in the air.

"Nice guys who want to help, that's who!"

"Since when did _you_ believe in nice guys?"

Audrey walked across the room to stand in front of Grace, placing her hands on her shoulders. "Grace, I know it's part of your natural personality and everything," she said, "but can you, like, at least _try_ to put a cap on the whole 'paranoid neurotic weirdo' routine for just _one_ night so we can sleep?"

"It's not that I _like_ being paranoid all the time," Grace replied, hurt, but hoping it didn't show on her face.

"So don't!"

"It's not that easy..."

"So _try_." Audrey let go of her shoulders and headed towards the bed. "And if you kick in your sleep, you're sleeping on the floor."

Finally, Grace decided that she _did_ need to sleep -- it was nearly three AM, and the adrenaline of the day's events was finally starting to wear off. So, she climbed into bed with her sister, and tried to let her worries wash away as she fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Grace figured it was about six in the morning when she woke up, needing a drink like her life depended on it. Audrey was next to her, still dead to the world, snoring lightly. Grace crept out of bed as quietly as she could, leaving the door open behind her as she tiptoed to the kitchen. Quietly, she found a paper cup and filled it with water from the tap, drinking all of it in two gulps. 

Feeling slightly better, she threw the cup into the trashcan and turned around again to head back into her bedroom, when someone grabbed her hand.

"Hey, don't run off yet."

Grace nearly screamed, spinning around, not relaxing in the slightest when she saw it was Travis. He smelled like cigarettes and cheap booze, and he was smiling.

"Shhh," he said in what she supposed was supposed to be a soothing voice. "You don't need to freak out, darlin'. It's just me."

"Sorry. Sorry," Grace whispered. "I was just headed back to bed. I'll -- I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

She tried to pull away to retreat back into the guest room. Travis didn't let go of her hand.

"You sure you don't want to stay up a little longer?" His tone was still friendly, but they were now coated with a malicious intent that Grace didn't want to examine any further.

"I'm really tired, and--"

"Come on, I was about to watch some TV. Come sit with me on the couch."

 It wasn't a request. So, though her legs felt like heavy sandbags, Grace followed Travis out into his living room. They sat on the couch, him pulling her to sit unusually close to him, but he didn't turn on the TV. Instead, he spoke to her.

"You know, I'm getting the chance you don't trust me, Grace. You _are_ Grace, right?"

She nodded, but then realized he wasn't actually looking at her. He was staring straight ahead, but the look in his eyes told her he was thinking. "Yeah, I am," she whispered.

"Why don't you trust me, Grace?"

"I mean, I... I just met you."

"Still, I think I've been awfully nice." He was looking at her now, meeting her eyes. "I picked you and your sister up off the road, even bought you dinner. And now I'm letting you stay in my own home. That's pretty generous, right?"

Grace swallowed the lump in her throat. "Very generous."

"What do you say to people who have been generous, Grace?"

"...Th... th..."

He raised his eyebrows, silently demanding she finish her sentence.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"...Lie down, darling."

"Wh-what are you going to--"

"I said." He reached into his pocket, producing a pocket knife, and flipping it open. "Lie. _Down_. Darling."

Grace's hands were shaking, now, but she obeyed, laying with her back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling. She heard a small clatter as he set the pocketknife on the coffee table beside the couch. Then, Travis was kneeling above her, his weight on her body and his breath flushing against her face. He leaned down to kiss at her neck, ignoring the way she cringed and squirmed underneath him. Instead, he reached for her hand, forcing it to touch him through his jeans. He was already hard, forcing her to rub him through the fabric.

"Time to repay your debts," Travis whispered into her ear. "And if you scream, I'll use that knife to teach you a lesson you'll never forget. Wouldn't do you any good around here, anyway. People don't respond to screams, they just stay out of everyone's business. So, don't scream. And do what I say. Do you understand?"

She forced herself to nod.

"I'm going to fuck you, Grace. I'm going to fuck you in so many different ways. First I'm going to come all over you, and then, you're going to get me hard again so I can come inside of you. I'm going to fuck you from the front and from behind. You're going to take me into your mouth and swallow, as many times as I say. And then I'm going to do the same to your sister... If you don't piss me off, I won't make you watch. That's generous, isn't it?"

Grace nodded again. "Very generous," she whispered. It didn't sound like her own voice.

She closed her eyes, begging herself to lose consciousness and not have to experience this, just black out until it was over, as she heard him undo his belt and unzip his jeans. Then, she heard an odd, high-pitched whimpering, his breathing shaky. For now, he was doing it to himself and not to her.

"Touch me."

She did. And she thought she'd die from the hatred burning inside of her. 

"Tell me you want it."

She did. Somehow, the words escaped her. She had no idea how.

As she spoke, his hands reached up to slide underneath her t-shirt and pull down her bra, feeling over her breasts. She barely had any to speak of, but he didn't appear to care. Grace leaned her head back, eyes squeezing shut even tighter as she tried to pretend she was anywhere else. If she tried hard enough, she could almost imagine herself floating out of her body, floating out of this house and into the sky, forever.

But imagining wasn't enough.

Travis' hands left her chest, one hand going down to touch himself again, the other undoing the button and zip of Grace's jeans, pushing back the fabric of her underwear, forcing two fingers inside of her. Grace cringed, crying out slightly from pain, but bit on her tongue, refusing to scream. Travis was whispering, not really talking to her. Talking _at_ her, more like.

"Oh, Christ, that's tight... You're already wet." He leaned in to whisper into her ear again. "Why are you crying? You like this, I can tell. It's always the quiet ones who are dirty."

Was she crying? She hadn't noticed.

"Don't be ashamed, Grace. I can tell you can't wait to have me inside of you." 

As he spoke, he began to pull down Grace's jeans the rest of the way -- when footsteps and Audrey's voice called out from the other side of the house.

"Gracie? Travis? You out here?" Audrey called, sounding sleepy.

Grace decided to throw caution to the winds. Well, maybe _decided_ was the wrong word. It just happened, pure survival instincts kicking in.

"AUDREY! HELP! GRAB A KNIFE! _HELP ME_!"

"You stupid bitch--" Travis snarled, reaching for his pocketknife as Audrey's footsteps broke into a run, kitchen drawers opening and closing as she searched for a knife. Grace, quick as anything, rammed her knee into his crotch and shoved him off the couch and onto the floor, stumbling to her feet and redoing her clothes.

Audrey ran into the room, brandishing a large carving knife. "What happened?!"

Unable to find words, Grace pointed at Travis, who was still on the floor, groaning in pain, still with his jeans pushed down and his belt undone, the pocketknife in his hand.

And suddenly, Audrey knew what had happened.

"You son of a bitch!" she snarled. "Come on Grace, let's go."

The two ran for the door, as Travis stumbled to his feet, chasing after them, trying to pull up his jeans as he did so. Audrey had reached the door and managed to throw it open, knife in hand, when Travis grabbed Grace's shoulder and pulled her back against him, holding his pocketknife to her throat. Audrey went pale, eyes widening, as Travis whispered, "Put the knife down."

Audrey did so, letting it clatter to the floor. She stood there, in the open door of his house, staring at him, silently begging him not to hurt her sister. Grace wanted nothing more than for Audrey to run, run and save herself, but Audrey appeared to be rooted to her spot.

"I don't know what the fuck you two did," Travis said quietly. "But I know you two can't go to the cops. You think I didn't hear you two talking?"

Audrey's hands were shaking. "Please, let us go. We won't tell anyone."

Travis laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Oh, I love the sound of a pretty girl begging. But that's not gonna happen, sweetheart. You two still owe me."

Audrey and Grace's eyes met, both trying to find answers in the other's eyes, and both having none. Audrey was about to try to negotiate for Grace's safety in exchange for herself -- when, suddenly, like a knife slicing through the darkness, a loud honking sound broke through the street. Someone was apparently leaning on their car horn. It was both the loudest and most wonderful sound either girl had ever heard.

It was their mother's car. 

But their mother wasn't in the car.

J.D., however, was. And he looked pissed.

He parked on the grass in front of Travis' house, slamming the car door behind him, a gun in his hand. Audrey got out of the way, so he could plainly see Travis holding Grace at knifepoint. She didn't like J.D. much, but she was more than happy to sic him on this creep.

"I don't know who the fuck you are or what the fuck is going on here," J.D. said. "But I'm going to politely ask you to release my daughters, please. And I only ask politely _once_."

"Who the hell are you?" Travis asked, but he looked nervous.

J.D. raised his gun, saying, "I'm Jason Dean. Now, let her the fuck go."

Apparently, J.D.'s name meant something - _everything_ \- to Travis, because he immediately took a step back, raising his hands and letting go of Grace. As soon as she was free, Grace ran off the porch and onto the sidewalk, standing behind J.D. Audrey soon followed.

"Girls, get in the car," J.D. said.

They didn't need to be asked twice. The second they were in the backseat, J.D. followed, keeping the gun trained on Travis until he was in the driver's seat and starting up the engine. They peeled away, Travis left on his porch, looking both terrified and mystified by J.D.'s presence.

J.D. asked, "What the hell happened?!" at the same time Audrey asked, "How did you find us?" and Grace asked, "Where's Mom?"

J.D. answered first. "Look, girls, a man doesn't stay both legally dead _and_ in constant employment, not to mention being able to relocate every few years, without having both a really fucking good phone, and a lot of friends in various places and professions." He reached into the glove compartment, and held up a smartphone -- Grace and Audrey both knew people that had them, but had to settle for flip phones, themselves. "Pulled a picture of the two of you off your mom's Facebook. Sent it to every contact I have in the state, told them to pass it on until someone said they'd seen you. Took a couple hours, but finally, a friend of a friend of a friend said he'd seen you two in that creep's car while you were on the interstate -- and, fortunately, he knew the car model and the first three digits of the licence plate."

"Your reach goes that far?" Audrey said, sounding impressed.

"Well, let's just say a lot of people knew I wouldn't be happy if I didn't find you two, and that I'd resort to drastic measures if I didn't find you, fast. So anyway, I sent the car model, color and digits of the license plate to a friend at the DMV, and she pulled up the _one_  male in the state who drove a red Honda civic, with the first three digits of the license plate being 5BW. She sent me a copy of his ID, and it led me here."

"That's some spy movie shit."

"Call it what you like, just be glad it worked."

"...Where's Mom?" Grace asked again, voice scratchy.

"She's turning herself in. I'm supposed to keep you two safe until we figure out what to do. So... you two want to tell me what the fuck I just walked into back there?"

Audrey stumbled over her words. "He was... he tried to... he..."

Grace finally answered, her voice toneless. "He decided that since he was housing us, he was entitled to some action. He was just getting started with me when Audrey intervened."

J.D. almost ran a red, spinning around in his seat to stare at her. Another car honked at them, and he slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid causing a crash. Then, he looked at Grace. 

"That piece of shit. I swear to God, I'll kill him," he muttered, half to himself.

"What good would it do?" Grace asked quietly. She felt like she wasn't really the one having this conversation, like she was just sitting there, watching herself have it.

"...What _do_ you want to do?" J.D. asked, as the light turned green again.

Grace licked her lips. "I want to take a shower. And I want to burn these clothes."

"We can accomplish that."

"And can we... not tell Mom about this? Ever?"

Grace was pretty sure Audrey and J.D. both said " _What_?!" at the exact same time. Under any other circumstances, she would've smiled.

"Mom needs to know about this, Grace!" Audrey said, horrified.

"Aud, you know this would _kill_ her."

"I'm with your sister," J.D. said. "Veronica would want you to tell her."

"Why?" Grace asked. "It won't fix anything. I just... want to pretend it didn't happen. I want to forget about it. So can we just keep it between us? Please?"

Audrey and J.D. glanced at each other, Audrey looking quite miserable, J.D. looking resigned.

"...Okay," he finally said. "Our little secret."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally have an update! I can't promise a regular update schedule, but I do promise that this story isn't dead. I have a plan. Just trust me. This will probably be the most graphic any of the chapters get, BTW.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you leave a kudos or a comment!
> 
> Also, fun fact: I picture Natalia Dyer as the twins.
> 
> (Oh, and don't worry. You don't really think J.D. or I would let Travis get off THAT easy, do you?)


	7. in restless dreams i walked alone

**September 3, 2006**

* * *

 Veronica needed a car.

She'd been searching for the girls all night, and hadn't seen hide nor hair of them. At this point, she'd almost be glad to run into J.D. She was kicking herself for ever agreeing to let him look for them, no matter how quickly she'd realized the error of her ways. Not helping matters was the fact that she was looking over her shoulder every second. So far, she'd had to duck into an alleyway twice to avoid a cop car. She was sure they were looking for it. Hell, everyone in the state was probably keeping their eyes open for Veronica Sawyer, runaway murderess.

She needed a vehicle, and fast.

As much as she told herself that her days of violence were long behind her, Veronica would do _anything_ to reunite with her daughters.

So, when she saw a well-dressed young man standing in front of his parked car, yapping away on his phone, with no one else around, Veronica didn't waste any time in finding something she could use. Not to kill him, or anything. No, while the guy looked like an irritating yuppie, she didn't want him dead. Just... out of commission. Just long enough for her to get away.

A piece of broken pipe laying on the ground in an alleyway. That would do.

The guy continued blathering on to what Veronica assumed was his assistant, utterly oblivious as she crouched behind his car, creeping slowly towards him.

"Look, Jerry, I don't give a fuck if you had a vacation, we need this done, and we need it done _yesterday_. So haul your fat ass down to my office and--"

THUNK.

In one swift motion, Veronica clocked him on the back of the head with the pipe, cringing slightly as he fell to the ground. After casting a glance around to make sure no one had seen (so far, so good), she knelt down just long enough to check his pulse. Okay, good, he was alive. And, more importantly, his keys had shot from his hand and landed on the ground a few feet away. Veronica snatched them up, and cast one last glance at the guy. She briefly toyed with the idea of taking his wallet, too -- living on the run wasn't cheap. But, she decided against it. He looked like the sort that never had cash, only plastic. And plastic could be traced. So, without any further hesitation, she settled behind the wheel, turned on the car, and peeled away.

She had a car. Good. That would make her search for Grace and Audrey that much easier.

The only trouble was, she didn't even know where she'd start.

* * *

 Grace, Audrey, and J.D. had had to kill a couple hours before the nearest hotel would start allowing guests to check in, so they'd spent that hour getting some food, running into a Walmart to get new clothes for Grace, and, as promised, burning her old ones. 

It was odd, Grace reflected, the sense of unity she felt with her father as he emptied out a can of gasoline onto the clothes, which she'd been all too eager to rip off in the Walmart's bathroom, changing into the new outfit as soon as J.D. had the receipt. They now stood in an alleyway behind an old tattoo shop, one that wasn't likely to ask why they were burning stuff, so long as they cleaned up after themselves and didn't bother their customers. J.D. had chucked the old clothes in an empty trashcan, and was now getting ready to strike the first match.

The flame was tiny, but it burned bright, and it made Grace feel just a little bit more powerful, just from looking at it.

J.D. extended his calloused hand towards her, the match in between his thumb and his index finger.

"You want to do the honors?" he asked.

Grace nodded, silently, before taking the match from him, and, after a moment's hesitation, dropping it into the trashcan.

Audrey and Grace both jumped about a foot back as flames engulfed the gasoline-drenched fabric, but J.D. didn't even flinch. 

Grace watched the fire intently, trying to breathe. Trying to stop her heart from racing.

The clothes were gone. As soon as she could wash herself, she'd feel better, she told herself. 

And yet, even as she thought it, even as the fire destroyed the last of what remained, she knew it wasn't true.

If she wanted to get rid of everything his filthy hands had ever touched, she'd have to throw herself into the fire, as well.

* * *

 

As soon as they checked into their room at the Hideaway Hotel, Grace had run right into the bathroom, turning on the shower.

"You sure we should let her do that?" Audrey asked. Even as she did, she knew there was no stopping her. "I mean, if they want to do a rape kit, they'll need all the evidence they can get, right?"

J.D. sighed. "We can't go to the police, Audrey. You know that."

"He tried to rape my sister, they should fucking _crucify_ him!"

"That's true. But involving the police won't help anyone. Least of all your sister."

"What the hell kind of parent are you?!" Audrey snapped.

J.D.'s eyes flashed, but he didn't respond beyond a stony stare. Audrey decided not to push her luck any further, and turned her back to J.D. to examine the room. There were two beds -- one for J.D., one for the twins. A Bible on the nightstand. A TV, one that probably didn't get cable. A landline phone. A desk that looked it hardly ever got used. And, like every other hotel Audrey had ever stayed in, a rack of maps and pamphlets. 

She sighed, leaning back on the bed, closing her eyes, trying very hard not to think about the shitstorm that had been the last 72-odd hours.

Three days ago, Audrey's biggest problem had been whether or not she'd get suspended too many times this year, and figuring out which classes she could afford to sleep through. Now, her life was a mess of secrets, and bullets, and the nightmare that was her father.

It wasn't that she wasn't glad J.D. had shown up when he had; she was. God only knew what Travis would've done to them if he hadn't shown up to rescue them. But she simply couldn't allow herself to relax around J.D. He was dangerous. He was a _murderer_. True, a murderer that seemed to have her and Grace's best interests at heart... for now. But what would happen if they pissed him off?

At least Audrey knew Veronica well enough to know she wouldn't hurt her and Grace. As angry as she was with her mother, Audrey was certain that she loved them.

J.D.?

Audrey didn't know him at _all_.

J.D. turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until he came to a news network. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at it.

"God dammit, Veronica," he muttered to himself.

The first few minutes of news coverage were dull -- local events Audrey didn't know or care about. She laid on the bed, watching mindlessly, when the program cut back to the news anchors, and a picture of Veronica appeared onscreen.

Audrey sat up slowly as J.D. grabbed the remote, turning up the volume. 

"--in other news, Veronica Sawyer, murderess at large, is still on the loose. After calling the police, saying she wanted to turn herself in, Sawyer vanished. The whereabouts of Sawyer are unknown, but anyone who has seen her or has information about her is urged to call the tip hotline. Sawyer is likely armed, and we have been informed that she pulled her daughters out of school before going on the run."

Audrey cast a nervous glance at J.D., who was staring at the TV, a confused frown etching his features. 

"...Was that part of the plan?" she asked quietly.

"No," he said, letting out a long sigh. 

"Any idea what she's thinking?"

"Absolutely none. She has my number. If she's as smart as I think she is, she'll realize the cops are after her and call me."

Audrey thought about saying that she wouldn't call J.D. if he was her only hope at not being executed, but she bit her tongue.

The shower turned off, and Grace came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed and towel-drying her hair.

"Mom's gone AWOL," Audrey said immediately. 

Grace's mouth dropped open, but she quickly recomposed herself. "...What? Why?"

"God only knows," J.D. said, massaging his forehead. "God, she better have a plan..." He shut off the TV, turning to the girls. "I'm gonna step outside, call some of my friends, and see if anyone's seen her. Holler if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," Grace said. Audrey didn't say anything, bright eyes simply staying on J.D. as he walked out, closing the room door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Audrey got to her feet, reaching for Grace's hand. Grace flinched as soon as Audrey touched her, so Audrey quickly drew back, muttering, "Sorry." She sighed, shaking her head. "Grace, Mom's ditched J.D. They had a plan, and she backed out. Why?"

Grace shrugged helplessly. "I--I don't know. Maybe she got scared, thought that once she was arrested, J.D. wouldn't be able to get her back out. So... she ran."

Audrey threw up her hands. "Great. So now we're alone with Psycho Trenchcoat?"

"I'm sure Mom wouldn't--"

"Gracie, until 48 hours ago, we were sure Mom wouldn't hurt a fly. Now we know she's killed three people. Who knows what she'd do?"

"So what are you saying?" Grace snapped. "You think Mom would just abandon us?"

"I don't know what I think." 

"Mom would never leave us like that!"

"You don't know that! From where I'm standing, it looks like she ran off to save herself, instead of sticking to the original plan she and J.D. had to find us."

"Well, what do you suggest, Aud? That we leave? Go back home?" There was a hostility in Grace's tone that Audrey had never heard before. "How would we accomplish that? Hitch a ride?"

Audrey flinched. "...No. No, I... God, no. We... we need to stay with J.D., at least for now."

"At least for now?" Grace repeated. "Audrey, if it weren't for J.D., we'd probably be _dead_."

"...I know," Audrey admitted. "Look. As grateful as I am to him for rescuing us -- as grateful as I will _always_ be -- I don't trust him."

"...I think he cares about us," Grace whispered.

"Me too. But that doesn't mean it's safe to be around him. So I think we need to stay with him until we think of something better."

Grace met her sister's eyes. Audrey was always so sure she knew what was best.

Look how well that worked out.

But, Grace knew she had basically no other options. So... she'd stay with Audrey until she could think of something better.

* * *

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Come on, come on, come on..." Veronica whispered to herself. She was crouched in a phone booth, hands trembling as she kept her eyes open for cops.

_Click._

"Hello?"

"Heather!" Veronica gasped.

"Veronica?" Heather said, as if she didn't dare to believe it.

"Yes, yes, it's me! Oh, God, Heather, the past few days I've had..." Veronica's voice broke, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her. 

"Veronica, is it true? What they're saying on the news?"

There was a three-second pause that felt like a thousand years.

"Yes."

"...How could you?" Her voice was a whisper, shaking, betrayed.

"...I ask myself that every single day."

"...All those years... you comforted me, told me how much you missed Heather... And yet..."

Veronica swallowed the lump in her throat, biting back tears. She knew she had no right to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Heather," she said.

"Why... why are you calling me?"

Veronica took a deep breath. "I need your help. I need money." God, she felt like a creep just saying it. 

"You've got to be fucking with me." She'd never heard Heather McNamara sound that angry, or that hurt. Not even when she was talking about how Chandler and Duke made her feel. Veronica's heart broke as she realized, _she_ was the new villain in Heather's life.

"Heather..."

"You killed our best friend. You killed my boyfriend and _his_ best friend." Heather's voice was warbling, now. "And now... now you want my help?"

"Not for me," Veronica said quickly. "For the girls. For Grace and Audrey."

"Veronica--"

"Heather, please. I need to take the girls and disappear."

"I can't help you. Veronica, if you give a shit about your daughters, turn yourself in and let them go. I'll... I'll take them in, just like we agreed."

"No. Not an option. I've fought too hard to have a life with them, I'm not giving it up now!"

"Veronica -- if I send you money, the police will do that to trace you. And I'm _not_ going down with you!"

She wanted to be angry, but she couldn't quite bring herself to it. Heather had a point. Which was really annoying.

"...Okay. Okay. I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have called," she whispered. "I really am sorry, Heather. I know it can't bring them back, but... I'd do anything to change it."

Heather didn't say anything. Her breathing was shaky, as if she was crying.

"Are... are you going to tell the police I called?" Veronica asked quietly.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"...No."

"Thank you. I... I won't bother you again, Heather. I won't bring you any further into this. Just... tell Martha that I'm sorry. Because I am, Heather, I'm so... so sorry."

"...Be careful, Veronica. And... tell Grace and Audrey that I hope they'll be okay."

"I will."

"Take care of yourself. And... get out of Ohio as soon as possible. They've got every cop in the state looking for you."

_Click_.

* * *

Audrey had fallen asleep soon after J.D. returned, hugging the pillow tightly and snoring, basically dead to the world. Grace had wanted to join her, but instead of falling asleep, she'd laid awake in their bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to force herself to slip into unconsciousness. She wanted nothing more than to relax, to let her tiredness consume her so she could finally properly recharge. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, leaning over her. If she didn't force herself to focus on the sound of Audrey's breathing, or the sound of J.D. flipping through a book he'd found in Veronica's car, she'd hear his voice, hissing in her ear.

Sometimes, if she didn't try very, very hard not to let her mind go there -- and even when she did -- she swore she could feel his hands on her again.

And she knew that no amount of cleaning herself or burning things or trying to force it out of her mind would take what he'd done away.

Grace turned her head as she heard rustling from J.D.'s side of the room. He'd closed his book, and was getting off his bed, headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked quietly.

J.D. jumped slightly, but relaxed when he realized it was just Grace. "I'm stepping outside to smoke. I'll be back soon." He reached to open the door, putting his room key in the pocket of his trenchcoat along with a pack of cigarettes, before glancing at Grace again. "Can't you sleep?"

She shook her head.

"Well, if you can't sleep, you're welcome to come out with me," he said with a shrug.

 Grace hesitated, before nodding, quickly and quietly getting up. Audrey rolled over in her sleep, but didn't otherwise react as Grace pulled on her shoes and followed J.D. out the door.

There was an old, rickety bench behind the hotel, facing a dumpster.

"Lovely view," Grace said sardonically.

J.D. snorted. "Any view that's not likely to be spotted by the cops is lovely to me." He sat down on the bench, Grace following. "You smoke?"

"No."

"Good. Don't start." J.D. lit a cigarette for himself. Grace watched him silently as he exhaled, a long stream of smoke escaping his lips. "You really should get some rest, Grace. I have the feeling the next few days are going to get quite exhausting."

Grace looked away, then. She picked at her fingernail, keeping her voice as level as possible as she said, "I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see... I see..."

J.D. looked at her, gaze not wavering for a moment. "He'll pay for what he did, Gracie. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow. But that miserable piece of shit is going to get what's coming to him. You have my word."

Grace glanced over at her father, wondering if he had just confessed that he was planning to murder Travis.

Wondering if she really objected to that idea.

"Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that _right now_ , things blow." Grace continued picking at her fingernail, hastily changing the subject. "Did any of your - your contacts have any clue where Mom is?"

He sighed. "No," he said. "But I have everyone on my list looking for her. She can't hide from me forever."

Grace's insides gave an odd twist at those words. So he thought he was the one she was running from. Grace couldn't exactly blame her, but somehow, she didn't feel the urge to run from J.D.

"If nothing else," J.D. continued, "she'll come back for you girls. She'd do anything for you two."

"Audrey seems to think she's abandoning us," Grace said quietly.

J.D. looked almost amused. "Do you always listen to your sister?"

"No," she said, feeling oddly defensive.

"Listen, Grace -- I know your mother better than she knows herself." Grace wondered if that was really true. "She loves you. She'll come back. And then the four of us will disappear, and this shitshow will be behind us."

"...Promise?"

J.D.'s facial expression didn't change, but his eyes almost seemed to be smiling. "Promise."

For the first time in nearly three days, Grace allowed herself a smile, too.

* * *

The sun had started to go down when Veronica realized she was running out of options. She needed to find the girls, but even if she managed to do that, she wasn't sure what she could do without money. The police would surely notice if she got money out of her bank account, and what little cash she'd had on her was in _her_ car -- the one J.D. was driving, last she saw him. The only one of her friends that had enough money to help her had turned on her -- and Veronica couldn't even really blame her. Calling her parents was out of the question. She wasn't sure if they'd turn her in or not. Martha may have wanted to help, but she wouldn't be able to. And it wasn't like she could go to a bank to get money.

There was only one person left on her side.

It took a full five minutes of staring at the pay phone for Veronica to be able to swallow her pride, reach into her pocket, and pull out the slip of paper J.D. had scribbled his number on.

It took six rings for him to pick up.

"Yeah?"

"J.D., it's me. It's Veronica."

"...Hang on." She heard footsteps, the sound of muffled talking, a door opening and closing behind him. Then, he spoke to her. "Veronica, where the _fuck_ have you been? What happened to our plan?"

Veronica took a deep breath. She couldn't exactly tell him the reason she ran away was because she didn't want him to be the only person looking out for the girls, not if she wanted his help. "I panicked. I can't go to jail; I'm no good to the twins like that."

"They've both been freaking out when they found out you ran."

Her heart gave a massive leap, a smile breaking out across her face for what felt like the first time. "You found them?"

"Yes. They're safe."

"Oh, thank God!"

"You're welcome. What city are you in? We're in Springfield."

"Tremont City."

"Good, then you're not far..." J.D. sounded like he was thinking very quickly.

"Can I talk to them?" Veronica asked. "No, wait, better yet, I'll drive over. Where in Springfield are you?"

"First I want to talk to you. Face to face."

_Thunk_. Her heart was now in the pit of her stomach.

"What?" she said.

"I'll tell you where the girls are after we've talked."

"Jason, do you really think it's smart to play games with me when it comes to my fucking _children_?" she whispered, her voice like ice.

J.D.'s voice was calm, infuriatingly so. "They're my children, too, Veronica."

"Tell me where they are!"

"Gladly. After you meet me in the 7-Eleven parking lot in Springfield. One hour. Stay in the car."

"Craving a slushie?" Veronica said, rolling her eyes.

"I thought it nostalgic."

"Jason, I am so not in the mood for your bullshit right now."'

"You want to see our daughters or not?"

Veronica swallowed what little remained of her pride. "Yes."

"Good. See you in an hour."

_Click_. He'd hung up.

"Shithead," Veronica said to the empty line, before she hung up as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm shocked I was able to update again this quickly. But compared to that last chapter, this one was a breeze. 
> 
> Leave your thoughts and predictions in the comments, and I will hopefully be back soon with another update! Thanks for reading!
> 
> (Oh, and to everyone who left comments on the last chapter on how much you want Travis dead: good things come to those who wait...)


	8. never doubt i love

**September 3, 2006**

 

* * *

 

Veronica arrived at the 7-Eleven a bit early, hungry but not daring to get out of the car and risk detection. She sat in her parked car, in the furthest, darkest corner of the parking lot, nervously drumming her fingers against the dashboard, dark eyes darting as she tried to spot J.D. She half-hoped he'd turn up early. She half-hoped he wouldn't turn up at all. She honestly wasn't sure if cooperating with J.D. would make matters better or worse. She just knew that at this point, it was her only viable option.

J.D. arrived exactly an hour after he and Veronica hung up, right on time, pulling up in Veronica's car a few spots away. He made eye contact with her, and nodded once, but didn't approach her right away. Instead, he got out of the car, locking it behind him, and went into the 7-Eleven. Veronica kept her eyes on him as best she could through the glass doors, her gaze following him as he navigated the linoleum aisles. Part of her was irritated with him for taking his sweet time, but part of her didn't mind. It gave her more time to think about what she was going to say.

Unfortunately, she still hadn't fully worked that out when J.D. came to the car, carrying a large slushie for himself, and a small paper bag. She unlocked the door for him, and he hopped in, closing it behind him and handing her the bag. It had a hot dog in it.

"Eat up," he said. "I'm willing to bet you haven't gotten much of a chance to eat today."

Veronica nodded ruefully, stuffing the hot dog into her mouth, not caring in the slightest how unladylike she must have looked. She probably also looked pretty unladylike killing three people.

"This is a nice car," J.D. mused, as Veronica scarfed down her minuscule dinner. "What'd you do, shoot a Wall Street investor?"

Veronica choked on her food, glaring at him.

"Yeesh, it was just a joke, Ronnie," he said, not looking even remotely sorry.

"Fuck you, Jason."

"But seriously, how _did_ you get the car?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Same way an on-the-run murderess gets anything, I stole it."

"Well, the first order of business will have to be ditching this car, then," J.D. mused. "Whoever you took it from is bound to have called the cops by now. They'll be looking for it."

"No--" Veronica finished her food, and stuffed the bag down into the cupholder, turning to look at J.D. "No, J.D., the first order of business is you telling me where my daughters are."

J.D. wasn't looking at her anymore. He was staring straight ahead, looking like he was thinking very, very hard. For the first time, Veronica noticed that J.D. and Audrey both licked their lips when they were deep in thought.

Finally, J.D. spoke, and he said just about the last thing Veronica expected.

"...Marry me, Veronica."

Veronica stared at him, almost unsure if she'd heard him correctly.

" _What_?"

"Marry me," he repeated.

She continued staring at him, completely appalled. It was far from the craziest thing he'd ever said to her, of course, but seriously -- what the hell?

J.D. looked at her intently, his wild eyes boring into hers. Veronica shivered slightly, but was determined to not let her gaze waver. His stare was intense, scalding, but intensely hopeful and earnest at the same time. It was when he was like this that she was the most reminded of the old days. Those breathless, emotionally charged nights they spent together after they killed Heather Chandler together -- when J.D. was at his most unhinged, and his most passionate.

"You're crazy," she said.

"So what?"

"Jason, we can't get _married_."

"Why not?"

Veronica tore her gaze away, rolling her eyes. She did't know why she was surprised that she, as always, had to be the adult one in their relationship. Still, she avoided answering the question directly; if she had to be honest, completely, totally, 100% honest about how she felt about the idea, she wouldn't like where the conversation would end up. She knew that already.

Instead, she said, "J.D., think this through. You don't wanna marry me."

"Yes, I do," he insisted, reaching for her hand. She wrenched it out of his grasp, but he kept talking, undeterred. "I love you. I have never stopped loving you."

"Whether or not we love each other might be the _least_ important aspect of this... whatever this is," she said.

"I love you, Veronica. And you love me."

He wasn't asking her. He was telling her.

That annoyed the hell out of her.

Mainly because he was right.

"We can't get married. We only dated for two months, and we nearly destroyed each other. Hell, for the past sixteen years, I thought you were dead because of what happened between us," she said. "If we were married, I think we'd end up eating each other alive."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. This is mutually assured destruction. It's not a good idea for us to even _talk_ to each other."

"We have children together," he pointed out.

"Yeah." She sighed. "Look, I promised you'd be in their lives after we relocate--"

"And what better way to make sure you keep that promise?"

"--but we cannot get married."

"You don't love me anymore?" he asked, smirking. Smirking because he knew the answer. He was just mocking her.

"I do still love you," Veronica muttered, not looking at him.

"What was that?"

She glared at him, seriously considering slapping him right then and there. "Don't make me say it again," she said.

"Why not?" he asked, tilting his head. "No one's here but us. I won't even make you say it in front of the girls."

"Need I remind you that loving you didn't stop me from beating the hell out of you with a croquet mallet when we were seventeen?"

J.D. snorted, plainly amused, but didn't say anything.

Veronica leaned her head against the window, looking out to avoid looking at J.D. again. It felt like the more she watched him, the more entranced she became. Like he was hypnotizing her with his presence.

"Where are the girls?" Veronica asked again.

"Marry me, Veronica."

"No. Where are the girls?"

"They're safe. Marry me."

"Was this your plan? Hold them hostage in exchange for my love?" she asked. "It's not going to work. Tell me where they are, or I'll drive this car off a cliff with both of us inside. They'd probably be better off."

"You wouldn't do that," he said. "You couldn't abandon them like that."

"Is this all they are to you? Bargaining chips?"

For the first time since getting into the car, J.D. bristled with annoyance.

"No," he said. "You know that's not true."

"Do I? You've only been back in my life for... what, a day and a half, and so far, you've done nothing but shoot people and hide my children from me. And ask me to marry you. It's hard to believe your motives where the girls are concerned are altruistic."

"I love them."

"That's impossible."

"You take that back."

Veronica almost smirked at how defensive he sounded. She meant what she said. She was sure J.D. genuinely believed he loved Grace and Audrey, but he barely knew them. He probably loved the idea of them more than anything. Or maybe just the idea of what their life would be like if they were a family.

"Jason, right now, our daughters are confused, disoriented, and probably more scared than they've ever been," she said, voice miraculously even. "Even if they're angry with me, they need someone familiar, someone who understands them. They need their mother. You're being selfish and stupid by keeping us apart, and you know it. If you love them, you'll reunite us."

"Now who's using them as bargaining chips?" he snapped.

"Where are they?"

There was a minute of silence, and then...

"Hideaway Hotel. Lehmann Road. Room 128."

Finally, she allowed herself a smile. "Thank you," she said, almost sincerely. "Get in your car and drive there, I'll follow you."

J.D. nodded mutely, reaching for the car door. Veronica shot out a hand to grab his arm, stopping him.

"If you're lying to me," she said calmly, "I'll have your balls in a mason jar."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

* * *

 

He wasn't lying to her.

"Mom?"

" _Mom_!"

Grace and Audrey's voices ran out in rapid succession as soon as the door to room 128 opened, J.D. locking it behind them and shoving a chair under the doorknob as soon as they were inside.

Veronica nearly broke down weeping at the sight of her daughters, safe and sound.

"I was - I was so scared," she admitted, voice breaking. She opened her arms for a hug. The twins both hesitated, before running to her. Veronica held both her daughters tightly while J.D. hung back and watched. "Don't _ever_ run off like that again. You could've been killed!"

"We're fine, Mom," Audrey mumbled, after a moment's hesitation.

"What happened?"

The look that J.D., Grace, and Audrey exchanged was not lost on Veronica, but she didn't comment on it, only nodding when Audrey said, "We were hitchhiking when J.D. found us. We didn't get far."

Veronica knew that her daughter wasn't telling the full truth, but decided not to push it, at least not right now.

"What do we do now?" Grace asked quietly, hugging her arms.

"Now," J.D. said, "I get in contact with my relocation guy."

"You have a guy?" Audrey said skeptically.

"I've been legally dead for sixteen years and intend to stay that way. Relocating and resurfacing with a new identity every couple of years is a required ability."

J.D. dug his phone out of his pocket, headed to the door to step outside and make some calls. Before he got the door open, though, Veronica placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For bringing me here. I was worried out of my mind."

"...Of course," he replied.

Veronica hesitated, before reaching to tilt his head, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. It was quick, and not quite on his lips, but it was still more intimate than Veronica had intended on getting with him when she first found out he was alive.

J.D., to her surprise, didn't try and kiss her again, or even say anything in response. He just opened the door and stepped out without another word.

When Veronica turned around, she'd find both her daughters staring at her.

"What was that?" Audrey said, in that classic "I'm not judging you or anything, but I'm totally 100% judging you and all your life choices right now" voice. Audrey was great at that voice.

"He _is_ your father," Veronica said. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't still care for him."

"He's a _psychopath_."

"I never said he wasn't, Aud."

Audrey sighed, moving to flop down on one of the beds.

"So long as you don't marry him," she said. Veronica suppressed a laugh. "The last thing we need is for this _Chicago_ bullshit to turn into some Bonnie and Clyde bullshit."

"More like _Lethal Attraction_ ," Grace muttered.

* * *

 The twins were both asleep in the bed a few feet away, while Veronica laid on her back on her own bed, staring up at the ceiling. She tried to relax herself by listening to the sound of the nocturnal animals outside, or the sound of Grace and Audrey's steady breathing, but she was too wired to even consider sleeping.

Finally, about an hour after he stepped outside, J.D. returned, taking off his shoes and tiptoeing over when he saw Grace and Audrey were asleep.

He shed his shirt, remaining in an undershirt and jeans, and laid down on the bed next to Veronica, not even bothering to ask. She didn't shove him onto the floor, though the thought was very tempting.

"Well?" she whispered, rolling over onto her side.

"He told me to meet him in Indianapolis tomorrow," he whispered back.

"I'm coming with you," Veronica said immediately. "We can take the girls. We should probably ditch this hotel, anyway."

"Oh, family field trip, great," he muttered. He sat up briefly to shut off the bedside lamp, before laying down again.

"Think he'll be able to relocate all of us?"

"He'll have to."

"...Okay."

"Okay?"

"I trust you. Well. On this, I mean. Not in general."

He let out a short chuckle. "You're so romantic, babe."

Veronica rolled her eyes, rolling over so her back was to him. Determined not to comment on the fact that they were sleeping in the same bed.

They would sleep, and in the morning, they'd make the first steps towards a new life. For herself, and the girls... and J.D., too, she supposed. It appeared he was going to be a presence in their world, whether they liked it or not. The sooner they got used to it, Veronica realized, the better.

"Good night, Jason," she whispered into the darkness.

"Don't call me that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wouldn't be a Heathers fic without some fucked up JDonica interactions, amirite? (Seriously, I love J.D., but he is a godawful boyfriend and would probably be a worse husband.) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you leave some kudos or comments.


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